(13) THE RENEWAL

 

1 (a) What glories would me, motions of the soul? The centaur and the sibyl romp and sing Within the reach of my imagining; Such affirmations are perpetual. I teach my sight to lengthen into songs, Yet, like a tree, endure the shifts of things.

2 (a) The night wind rises. Does my father live? Dark hangs upon the waters of the soul; My flesh is breathing slower than a wall. Love alters all. Unloose my instinct, love. These waters drowse me into sleep so kind I walk as if my face would kiss the wind.

3 (a) Sudden renewal of the self — from where? A raw ghost drinks the fluid in my spine; I know I love, yet know not where I am; I paw the dark, the shifting midnight air. Will the self, lost, be found again? Inform?

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